


Comity

by Kasuchi



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-08
Updated: 2006-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasuchi/pseuds/Kasuchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're no good unless you are a good assistant; and if you are, you're too good to be an assistant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comity

**Author's Note:**

> For **bexatious** , as a gift. ♥

She brings him his files and a water bottle. She justifies that a water bottle isn't like coffee at all; it isn't a _secretary's_ job to bring him water. A _secretary_ brings coffee. He didn't even ask; she just is. There' s also the fact that he's been chugging coffee lately and eating worse and she's worried his heart might collapse from the stress, and he's got to stay hydrated or he'll collapse and maybe _die_ and she really doesn't want to go through that again. Ever.

She sets the water bottle down on a coaster she brought with her beside his coffee mug and hands him the file. He looks up at her from the stack of reports and folders and smiles wanly at her. "Donna, what would I do without you?"

She grins and steps back and watches him. What _would_ he do without her? She is whatever he needs her to be whenever he needs her to be. At his beck and call, but she doesn't mind; this is almost, _almost_ the life she envisioned for herself between daydreams in high school. And it suits her.

She keeps grinning a little manically and leans back against the doorframe. He opens the file she's just brought and flips through it. She can see the gears turning behind his eyes, see the way his eyes linger on her notes in the margins and her highlights in the drafts. He trusts her implicitly, and it makes her feel incredibly warm very suddenly.

And then he's looking at her. "What?"

She pushes herself off the doorframe and tries (in vain) to quash the million-watt smile into a passive mask and heads back to her desk. "Nothing, nothing."

"Donna..." He stands and follows her. "You don't smile like that and tell me it's nothing." He's leaning against the side of her desk now, half-sitting on the edge. "Come on," he half-whines, and it's cute on him when on anyone else it would be childish or annoying. "Tell me. You know you want to." He shoots her his best boyish grin and her own bright smile peeks out.

"What _would_ you do without me?"

The question baffles him, and the look of utter loss on his face is answer enough for her. "I...I have no idea. Why would I be without you?"

Her eyes soften and she nods. "Exactly." She turns back to her desk and continues to draw up note cards. "Don't forget your three o' clock with Jameson."

"Son of a..." He stalks back to his chair muttering obscenities and cursing Republicans.

She doesn't stop grinning.


End file.
